


Silver, Skype, Seduction

by Laikin394



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Skype, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 10:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10358685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laikin394/pseuds/Laikin394
Summary: Victor gives a great show. Especially, if Yuuri is the only viewer.orThat one time where Victor and Yuuri are separated by different competitions and they make up for the lost time.AKAI wanted Victuuri Skype sex, let's not pretend there's plot in this.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [triannegular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triannegular/gifts).



> 1\. Sorry for the crappy name, I can't come up with anything clever. If you can, please let me know!  
> 2\. I could not do trianne's art justice, but that's not for the lack of trying. Me writing porn in English (again, after a 3-year break) is entirely her fault. I swear this is ranked on top of the hottest stuff I've seen, and it intoxicated my imagination and has haunted by thoughts for several weeks now. The link is at the end.  
>  ~~3\. Victor came out as a finger-sucking slut and I apologize.~~

“Show me.”

  
Victor’s voice, although distorted by the distance and not the best connection via Skype, still conveys his anxiety.

“Wha-at? Just like that?”

“Oh yes,” Victor smiles. He has his head propped by his arm, with his slender fingers pressed to his cheek. “Come on,” he urges and his pinkie slides down to his lips. “Don’t be so embarrassed about it,” Victor adds, his perfect teeth biting his fingertip absent-mindedly, but that sight makes Yuuri gulp uneasily. Victor notices it, of course, and gives him one of those devilish little smirks.

“You know I’d love to be able to get my hands all over it, but for now, the best thing you can do while I’m away is just show me.”

“But Vitya…”

“Mmmm?” that teasing purr of a voice makes Yuuri’s face hot.

“H-how could I… I mean, since yours…” his murmur is barely audible and Victor has to crank up the sound on his laptop to catch the last words, “…more impressive.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Victor says, his finger still sliding over his lips and Yuuri squirms. His hands are out of frame, but guessing from the stiff pose, he’s purposefully keeping them in his lap. “But do I recall correctly that you called me a show-off for parading it around the house?”

“Ah, did I?”

Victor nods, enjoying how the flush colouring Yuuri’s cheeks spreads down to his collar. Subconsciously, Victor slides his own hand down the side of his neck, the light touch giving him goosebumps. His skin is warm, but he is certain Yuuri’s would feel hotter.

“That was just jealousy talking in me,” Yuuri confesses, his eyes widening as he watches Victor’s every move closely. “I may have been grumpy about it, but still I didn’t mind looking.”

“Good, good,” Victor says, playing shy and diverting his eyes. He gives Yuuri one of those flirty side looks from under the lashes and he thinks he hears a sharp intake. Victor grins. Honestly, Yuuri can be genuinely excited about the smallest of things. The adoration is the dark eyes is nearly palpable.

“I miss you,” Yuuri says bitterly and Victor instinctively reaches out to him, although his hand predictably meets only the smooth plastic of the screen.

“Me too,” he replies warmly, uncomfortable at how much longing his voice gives away. “So, did you think of me when you were touching it?”

“Y-yeah,” Yuuri admits nervously.

“And then, after getting back to your room?..”

“Couldn’t stop rubbing it,” Yuuri gives a little chuckle. “I do like its weight and how it feels in my hand.”

“I warned you about getting that addition, did I not?” Victor teases. “Come on, show me already!”

“Only if you promise not to get disappointed.”

“Never. Not in you,” Victor reassures. It’s quite a bold statement, but it doesn’t feel like an exaggeration. Some of the tension seems to leave Yuuri’s face and his shoulders droop down a little in a more relaxed pose.

“Alright,” he sighs and shifts closer to the camera. “It’s not much, but...”

Victor looks at his fist. Yuuri’s fingers are clenched so hard that the protruding knuckles turned white.

“Another silver,” he says calmly but Yuuri takes it for a reproach, yanking the hand with the medal out of sight.

“But I-I like silver,” he says. “In fact, some of my favourite things are silver,” Yuuri continues defensively. “Besides, I don’t have those… those ridiculous rules of yours! See!”

He turns his head and raises the glistening medal to his lips, eyes half-closed. Victor leans closer, drawn to the oddly enticing sight.

“Yuriiii,” he breathes, trying to find the words to convey that he is proud of him scoring the second, regardless of all the puns he makes about winning the gold. He can’t help a pang of ridiculous jealousy as Yuuri’s attention is given to a piece of metal instead of him.

As if sensing that, Yuuri shoots him a quick glance before brashly changing the pose and pretending to bite on the medal.

“See. Kissing silver is not _that_ bad,” he says cockily. Victor grunts when the tip of Yuuri’s tongue quickly darts out to swipe across the bottom ridge of the medal.

“But you know would feel even better?” Yuuri continues in a sudden rush of inspiration, turning to face the camera. “Kissing on _you_.”

Victor’s breath hitches in his throat at how sexy it sounds. Aside from sudden bursts of confessions when he feels cornered, Yuuri’s seldom vocal about his emotions, choosing other ways to show his affection or desires.

“Wicked boy,” Victor praises, his voice turning rasp and his mouth feeling dry. He’s loving every second of it – the cheeky tone of Yuuri’s voice and the mischief hidden in his eyes. He cannot guess what possessed Yuuri to make him so articulate, but Victor wants to discover how far things can go. A shiver of excitement rushes down his back, the tingling feeling making him shift in his chair.

“Do tell what you’d do if I were there with you.”

“I’d kiss you. Here.” Yuuri’s finger taps his lips, pulling the bottom one down briefly until it springs back up. Victor mirrors the movement, pressing his fingertips to his mouth, running them over lightly at first to enjoy the teasing tingle of the feather-light touch. His mind vividly recalls how the real thing would start, with the weight and the warmth of Yuuri’s body on him when Victor pulls him over into his lap. His nostrils flare as Victor takes a sharp breath, the memory incomplete without the fresh and faintly sweet smell of Yuuri’s shampoo, detectable only when he gets intimately close. The ghosting touch over his lips turns into a more insistent one, as Victor attempts to mimic the sensation he craves.

He puts the fingers of his right hand flat against his mouth, the two digits serving for a pretense pair of lips to kiss, while his other hand rests at the curve of his shoulder. It’s a bit of a show-off pose, but Yuuri seems to like it, leaning closer to the camera. Victor turns his right hand slightly, until he can catch the light dancing on the band of his ring in the viewfinder. Yuuri sees it too and smiles at the unspoken reassurance that neither of them is really alone.

“Yeah. And I’d also kiss your neck. And back up to that tender spot under your left ear.”

Victor’s hands feel clumsy on him, a bit fake, a bit _wrong_. The pads of Yuuri’s fingers would be more rough, and his movements not as flowing. Yuuri is often impatient, his desire usually blunt and honest, and only when the initial thirst is satisfied, he can switch to more exquisite and leisurely caresses.

Victor watches Yuuri’s hands move too, drawing on his own skin an invisible map of kisses meant for him. He tries to recreate it, circling the areas where Yuuri lingers a bit before moving on. His nails graze along his hairline, close to the spot Yuuri mentioned, and Victor shivers as goosebumps prickle his skin, turning his nipples hard against his shirt.

“I’d taste every inch of your neck,” Yuuri promises and Victor tilts his head back, exposing his throat in a silent plea. He imagines the provocative open-mouth kisses, hot and wet, deliciously generous and exciting. His own hands are a poor substitute for them, but at least it gets off some of the persistent itch for a contact. Victor takes a peek at Yuuri, who is watching him with his mouth ajar and cheeks adorably red.

“Just my neck?” Victor asks innocently, running his finger along the collar of his t-shirt. He’s not sure how far Yuuri wants to go with it, so he remains a bit reserved himself.

“No,” Yuuri replies coyly. “But I’ve already said I’d place a kiss on every part of you I see.”

“Mhmm, so what happens to the rest of me? At least you should be fair.”

“I guess… my imagination needs an… incentive?”

Victor chuckles as he stands up together with the laptop, placing in on the stool where he just sat and moving himself to the bed.

“Are you saying you forgot what I looked like? In just a week, really?”

“Okay, okay, you got me,” Yuuri raises his hands defensively. “You saw right through my trickery to get you naked.”

“Tsk, tsk, how rude of me to mess up the ingenious plan,” Victor’s voice is dripping with fake remorse. “My deepest apologies, I must set things right immediately!”

Victor pulls his t-shirt over the head, tossing it onto the floor.

“Oh wow,” Yuuri mutters under his breath in appreciation and clears his throat. “Touch yourself. Like I’d do it.”

Despite the confident voice, Yuuri looks hesitant, as if he expects him to laugh or refuse. Before, Victor would be terrified to let anyone have even a share of any kind of power over him, but for Yuuri he’d do anything blindly, at a snap of a finger. And love every second of it.

Victor licks the fingers of his right hand impatiently and then slides them across his collarbones, swiping across his chest.

“Slowly,” Yuuri orders and Victor whimpers and the raw hunger in his voice. “Enjoy it.”

“Naturally,” Victor agrees and lies down on his back, head closer to the stool with the laptop on it. He stretches gracefully, tilting his head further back over the ridge at the foot of the bed to look at the screen. His hands return to his mouth, but this time he is in no rush.

His index finger teases his lips, running from the sharp V of his cupid’s bow down to the center of his bottom lip. Victor’s tongue quickly darts out to moisten the parted lips and he gives a little lopsided smile at the noise Yuuri makes. The pads of Victor’s fingers trace the sharp contour of his lips several times, getting reacquainted with the sensitive silky flesh. He makes a dreamy sigh when he dips a knuckle of his middle finger into his mouth, sucking it in briefly before using his tongue to push it out.

Yuuri fidgets if his seat, breathing through his mouth rapidly. Victor licks his fingers leisurely, making sure that his tongue, thoroughly moving up and down his digits, is clearly visible. He glides the wet fingers along the side of his neck, sighing contently. It almost feels like a playfully extended lick, and the cooling trail of saliva adds to the overall sensation, making him shiver. Touching himself so openly in front of Yuuri, who’s usually reserved, is liberating, and surprisingly he doesn’t worry about how vulgar it may appear. Victor is a stranger to shame, he wants to go an extra step with everything, since he’s doing it on Yuuri’s command and only for him, but the thought of scaring Yuuri off still nags him.

His nipples are crinkled up when he gets to them, and Victor gives the little nobs a rough pinch. He arches up at the sharp half-pleasure half-pain shooting through him, and Yuuri’s muttered curse is lost in his cry of joy. Victor does it again, squeezing and this time rolling the nipples between his thumb and index finger, tugging on them until the dull ache makes them slightly numb. Yuuri whimpers and bites on his lip so hard that Victor almost feels guilty for teasing him like that.

Victor runs his nails over his chest. His skin is quite sensitive and he gets marked easily, so he’s pretty certain that the throbbing lines left by his nails are most likely turning pink. He alternates between scratches and strokes and feather-light touches, his hands gliding over his chest and stomach, playing over the band of his pants just to suddenly change direction and slide back across his torso to his shoulders. Victor’s mind is swirling with snippets of fantasies and possible scenarios. He eagerly responds to his own touch, urged on by grunted _yeahs_ and _ohs_ and incoherent noises coming through the speakers so much that he breaks a little sweat. A stray of his hair gets stuck to his cheek, but he doesn’t bother stopping for a moment to push it off his face.

The pent-up desire, thick and throbbing, is flowing down to concentrate and curl around the base of his cock. The fabric tightly stretched in front over his bulge feels uncomfortable. Victor raises his ass off the bed to smoothly push his training pants down, wiggling out of them and kicking them off quite efficiently. He contemplates making a show of taking his underwear off too, but he’s hard to the point where it boards on painful, so the skimpy black tanga follow the fate of his pants.

“Stop,” Yuuri huffs and Victor turns cold inside. Was it too much? He flips onto his stomach, raising himself on his elbows to see Yuuri better, and he feels like someone has punched him in the gut.  
With a lump in his throat he watches Yuuri walk away. His eyes instantly begin to itch and burn treacherously and he can’t swallow as his mouth is parched. His skin feels sticky with cold sweat but he’s pinned in place by panic. Victor just shuts his eyes to escape humiliation, the taste of regret bitter on his tongue.

“Better now, so…V-vitya?”

Yuuri’s voice breaks with emotion on his name. He’s still there, sitting further away from his laptop, leaning back on the pillow. He lost his bottoms sometime during their… interaction or maybe there were none to begin with. The hem of Yuuri’s shirt would be covering him modestly if not for the tent in front, where the tip of his cock is pressed against the fabric.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly. “Ah! Get off me!” he snaps in annoyance, shaking his hand. The ribbon of the medal is still looped around his wrist. Victor drops his head to hide his face in the sheets, letting out a nervous chuckle. Is he really that insecure to freak out over a shadow of non-existent rejection? Must be the age getting to him.

“I’m fine. I just thought…”

“You thought what?” Yuuri looks genuinely puzzled and Victor shakes his head slowly.

“That you wanted me to stop.”

“Oh… wait.”

“See, there is it again,” Victor teases, relieved, but Yuuri doesn’t laugh.

“I’m sorry! I meant hold on, I should’ve said hold on! I would never… Why would you even _think_ that?..”

“Alright, alright, let’s not get too hung up on it.” Victor brushes it off, easily reverting to the frisky tone, despite Yuuri still looking sheepish and confused.

“I suggest you should make it up to me,” he drawls and Yuuri appears to instantly calm down at the change in tone of his voice.

“How?”

“Touch yourself. Like I’d do it.”

Yuuri wheezes, recognizing his own words. They sounded so awkward in his head yet the way Victor pronounces them in that seductive purr makes him tremble with anticipation. He lifts his shirt up, the other hand hovering over his groin as if he intends to cover himself.

“Ah-uh,” Victor chides. “Go slowly. Enjoy it.”

Yuuri groans. Victor is grinning viciously, his little pink tongue captured between the perfect teeth. It’s unfair to quote him this way, challenging him to get a taste of his own medicine, but Victor is just enjoying himself too much.

On a whim, Yuuri picks up the discarded medal. Holding it over, he rotates his wrist, making the ribbon twirl around his shaft. He tugs the ribbon down until his cock is pointed at the camera bluntly.  
He manipulates the ribbon, making it slide up and down the shaft. Yuuri tightens the grip so that when he moves his hand towards himself, the straps pulls on the skin, exposing the glistening cockhead.

“Is that slow enough for you?”

Victor drives his hips into the mattress, exhaling through his nose.

“O-ohh god!”

Yuuri index finger is pressed against the smooth pink head. He rubs it over the slit, up and down, and when he moves the finger away Victor can see the clear string of precum stretch from the pad to the tip of his cock.

“I just so wish I could taste it,” Victor says, his voice rough.

“Yeah?”

“I’d rub your cock all over my lips, smearing that little drop all over them.”

“Like this?” Yuuri says innocently and then his finger is painting his lips with the improvised gloss until they shine.

“Ugh, fuck!” The fabric feeling too scratchy and rough on his cock when Victor sets to hump the sheets. He turns onto his side, drawing his knee up for the balance and grasping his dick to work it in unison with Yuuri.

“I want to suck you right now so badly,” Victor pants. “Feel you so hot and hard on my tongue, mmphff.” He pushes the fingers of his right hand into his mouth, slurping on them noisily. He nearly swallows them, thrusting the digits so deep they press against the root of his tongue. If only he could have the real thing.

“You taste so fucking good,” Victor’s accent gets thicker when he gets excited, making it more difficult to understand him. The R’s are coming out with a growl and he swallows some of the endings, but he cannot be bothered. His left hand gets wet with a gush of precum, and adding the sloppy sounds to the grunts and panting.

“I can’t wait to blow you when I get back.”

Yuuri spits onto his hand, slicking himself up. Victor watches the pink tip disappear in the clenched fist and peek back again, as Yuuri sets a rhythm of jagged powerful strokes. He envies that medal and Yuuri’s hand, wishing he could replace both with his tongue.

“I love how you fill my mouth,” Victor continues. Indeed he enjoys that power over Yuuri and the impatient hair tugs, prompting him to move faster.

“I would lick and suck all over that head until I can taste your precum. And even harder then. I’d work you until you cum on my face and smear your spunk all over it. I’d clean up the rest by having you feed me your soaked fingers.”

Yuuri’s chest is heaving as he’s breathing through his mouth noisily. His balls are drawn up tight to the shaft and Victor knows he’s close.

“C-can I… uh… try some…thing?”

He doesn’t wait for Victor’s reply though. Yuuri bends his left leg, pressing his knee to his chest, the right hand still stroking his cock. He spits on his left hand and Victor positively chokes when the tip of a slim digit disappears in the tender pink opening of Yuuri’s ass.

“Guh! Victoooor,” he cries working it deeper as his cock erupts, the first shot of cum landing just below the collar of his shirt.

Victor watches the thick ropey strings fly onto Yuuri’s stomach and hand. Yuuri stops any movements altogether and just rides out his orgasm, eyes screwed shut and mouth open and round. He slouches down a bit when it’s over, his shirt covered in darker wet spots in random patterns.

“Wow. That was…” Victor struggles to find the words but Yuuri interrupts him with a chuckle.

“Was, hm? Says who?” His left hand springs back to life, and the finger, buried between his butt cheeks, begins to move.

“It’s rather hot inside, you know,” Yuuri says devilishly, sliding his finger in and out slowly. “Ah! And tight.”

Victor shudders, tipping on the verge of an orgasm as the pleasure ripples through his body.

“I hope you can find out for yourself. And I don’t mean just fingers.”

“Ah, fuck!”

“Oh yes,” Yuuri agrees slowly. “But a finger is not a good representation, is it?”

Yuuri scoops up some of the cum, generously splattered across his shirt before eagerly sliding two of his digits back inside and Victor looses it. The intense pleasure is devastating. It feels like his entire body spasms, the tension and the coiled heat gushing out. Victor bites onto the sheet to muffle the whimpers and sobs as his hand continues milking him until he’s spent.

“Was it good?” Yuuri asks somewhat smugly.

“Never had a bad one,” Victor fends off. His hand is unpleasantly sticky and he wipes it on the sheets. “I will need to clean those up before the maid comes. Can you imagine having that conversation with her?”

Yuuri shakes with a silent laughter and Victor props his head on his elbow, watching him.

“You know, I’ve never actually _heard_ you laugh,” he remarks thoughtfully. “I’d really like to. One day.”

“Um…” Yuuri looks uncomfortable at that confession, so Victor doesn’t push it. “When are you flying back?”

“The day after tomorrow. You?”

“Tomorrow. Wait, no, that’s today already.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping then?”

“Who was the one keeping me busy, Victor?”

“If I bothered you so much, you could always shut your laptop and blame in on bad connection later,” Victor suppresses a yawn, the fatigue catching up with him. “Why don’t you do it right now? After wishing me a good night, of course.”

“Cause I feel like there’s not a single bone left in my body,” Yuuri complains half-heartedly.

“Want to leave it on for the night?”

“To hear you snore?” Yuuri teases and Victor presses his hand over his heart, wounded.

“Snoring? Me? How dare you! Besides, how would you know it?”

“Why else would Makka come to sleep to my room every other night?” Yuuri argues, stretching his arms over his head. There is a thud when something heavy drops on the floor. “Oops, there goes my medal.”

“I think we should stop here, until more hurtful and disrespectful things occur.”

Victor sits up, scrunching his face when the cooling wetness on the sheets comes in contact with his thigh. He makes sure to modestly cover himself as not to poke the camera of his laptop with… well, anything, as he picks it up and places the laptop back onto the table.

“See you in two days then.” He blows a kiss to Yuuri who pretends to catch it. It’s such a silly thing, but his heart skips happily nevertheless.

“Try to behave.”

“No promises,” Victor replies cheekily and clicks on the red icon to hand up.

**Author's Note:**

> Careful, don't burn yourself, dearie.  
> [ **Click for art** ](https://trianne.tumblr.com/post/156891954936/8-skype-sex-hides-face-in-hands-why-am-i-like)


End file.
